


Theme: Pulchritude.

by Heroine (Evoxine)



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 08:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15263106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Heroine
Summary: In which Even's family runs a flower shop, Isak literally falls for Even, and Even witnesses Isak cry over a wrap that is too spicy for Isak's poor taste buds.Along the way, they fall in love.





	Theme: Pulchritude.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my bff; ILY :)

Isak’s running so late that he doesn’t even register the brand new flower shop right next door to the _kollektiv_. He bolts right past it, snapback threatening to fly off his head as he swallows down mouthfuls of toast. He skids onto school grounds with minutes to spare, and Jonas, who has one foot in the building, turns around just in time to spot him.

“Bro,” Jonas says, sounding horribly amused, “have alarms ever worked for you?”

Too busy heaving for breath, Isak simply fixes his best friend with a flat look and stumbles into the building after him. His locker gives him shit, as per usual, but he manages to wrestle the door open in just a few tries before hurrying over to English. Jonas yells a _see you at lunch!_ after his retreating back when they part ways.

“Hi,” he wheezes, sliding into his seat next to Vilde. He drops his books onto the desk.

“Hi.” She blinks at him, her ever-present smile taking on a bemused note as she takes in his dishevelled appearance. “Um, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, pulling off his snapback and running fingers through his hair. They snag on a knotted curl or two. Or more. “Woke up, uh, sorta late. It's only been a few days since school started, you know. I'm still used to waking up at 2 in the afternoon.” He fans himself with the bill of the cap. Fuck, he can _feel_ the heat in his cheeks; he doesn’t even want to think about how red he is.

 

 

 

  
They’re at lunch, and Magnus is talking about girls. Girls and… cats? Isak shrugs, tuning the conversation out as he prods at his food.

It might be a new school year, but as Isak lets his attention wander, he’s glad to see that nothing much has changed. A group of first years entering the cafeteria catches his eye, and he absently scans their faces to see if there are any cute boys.

“So?”

Turning, he sees Jonas looking at him, half-eaten sandwich in hand. His friend gestures to the whole cafeteria. “How’re the pickings this year?”

“Not bad,” Magnus interjects, leaning over the table. Sweeping his hair back, he flattens his chest against the surface and sighs, gazing out at the crowd. “So many girls.”

Mahdi snorts and exchanges a look with Jonas.

“Eh,” Isak says, fiddling with a piece of stale bread. “I’m not seeing a lot of –”

He stops short, eyes widening as he drinks in the sight of the boy sitting across the cafeteria, chatting to a friend as he spins a pen between lithe fingers. Beautifully tousled hair, stunning bone structure, ridiculously pillowy lips… _and_ he somehow manages to pull off a jean jacket. Who the hell even wears jean jackets anymore?

“Oh,” Isak breathes, then promptly proceeds to choke on his spit when the boy’s gaze flickers down to meet his. _Shit, that’s intense_ , Isak thinks dazedly. His heart actually skips a beat, stuttering like a blushing bride.

Isak looks away immediately, praying to the heavens that a blush doesn’t make its way to his face.

“What’s up with you?” Magnus asks, cutting his sentence short in favour of frowning at him. Of _course_ his friends notice whenever he tries – and fails – to stay cool.

“Ha, that’s his flustered-over-a-cute-boy face,” Jonas sniggers. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

“Shut up,” Isak mutters. “He just – he caught me by surprise, okay?”

“Sure,” Mahdi drawls. “So which guy is this?”

Before Isak can surreptitiously point him out, Vilde and Sana step up to their table, with Vilde looking like she’s got a little speech right on the tip of her tongue. Magnus sits up and tries to smoothen out the wrinkles in his shirt, but only succeeds in rubbing grease into the fabric. Isak cringes in sympathy.

Despite the girls blocking most of his view, Isak can still make out the tips of the guy’s shoes. He’s so distracted by them that he barely registers what Vilde’s asking of them, only catching the word _kosegruppa_ and something about a meeting this Friday.

“Sure,” he says absently.

Vilde opens her mouth, then pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Isak shrugs. He can feel his friends’ incredulous stares on his face, but all he wants is for Vilde and Sana to move away so he can catch another glimpse of that boy. “See you there.”

“Yeah!” Vilde says. “Okay, great!”

They walk away, and Sana tosses a perplexed glance over her shoulder at Isak.

“Dude,” Mahdi begins.

“Did you forget about that party we’re supposed to go to?” Magnus.

“On Friday?” Mahdi again.

Isak’s about to reply when he sees Vilde and Sana step up to The Boy. He sees that head of beautiful hair bob up and down, and seconds later, the girls walk away with a wave. Vilde looks terribly excited.

“You guys don’t have to come with,” Isak says, stealing a quick glance at The Boy. “I’ll go for a bit and then come to the party after.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Isak?” Jonas demands. Isak rolls his eyes.

 

 

 

  
Over the next few days, Isak keeps a vigilant eye out for The Boy. To Eskild’s great surprise, he even wakes up on time just so he can get to school earlier and have the chance to linger in the schoolyard for a few extra minutes. He’s rewarded with a handful of sightings, but they’re barely enough to tide him over until Friday – assuming his gut is right in guessing that The Boy will be at the _kosegruppa_ meeting.

“You’re coming, right?” Jonas asks, leaning against the row of lockers. Isak grunts as he tries to shove his biology textbook into the stupid hole the school deigns to call a locker.

“Yeah man,” Isak exhales, slamming the door shut. “I’ll head over when Vilde’s satisfied.”

“We’ll pre without you then,” Jonas says, and Isak nods in understanding.

“Just save some of the –” He mimes smoking a blunt. “For me.”

With that, he turns around and heads towards the theatre. There’s already a decent number of people inside, and after signing in with Vilde, he gets a bun as a reward for his presence. Glancing around the room as he settles down on a step, Isak feels a twinge of disappointment that The Boy is nowhere to be seen.

He picks at the bun out of boredom, popping small pieces into his mouth until he realises that it actually tastes pretty good. He’s just about to take a big bite when the door to the theatre opens and a familiar face makes its appearance. The half-eaten bun stops an inch away from his open mouth.

 _Oh my god_ , Isak thinks, _he’s actually here._

As The Boy walks up to Vilde and Sana, Isak’s gaze trails after him. He knows he’s blatantly staring, but he really couldn’t care less. Now that Isak finally gets the chance to see him up close, he’s practically winded by how long The Boy’s legs are, and how effortless his hair looks, styled into a relaxed quiff. Isak momentarily wonders what it would feel like, running his fingers through those locks.

The Boy gets his bun, and when he turns to look for a seat, Isak scrambles to look away immediately. They make eye-contact anyway, and Isak cringes internally at how quickly his cheeks start to flame. Then The Boy finds a seat just a couple of steps behind him, and Isak hopes he makes it through this meeting without combusting.

By the end of the meeting, Isak learns three things. One: The Boy’s name is Even. Two: he’s the third-year transfer from Elvebakken that everyone’s been talking about. Three: he has the most pathetic crush on Even.

 

 

 

  
Isak tries to stamp down his feelings, tries to push them back to the deepest recesses of his mind. He does reasonably well for a few weeks, managing to keep his wits about him whenever Even appeared in the vicinity. Jonas, judging by the look in his eyes, is probably halfway there to figuring it out, but Isak doesn’t want to bring it up until he’s sure he can’t avoid doing so.

On the sixth _kosegruppa_ meeting, however, his crush flares right back up when Even knocks him off his feet. Quite literally.

They’re gathering together for another one of Vilde’s group activities when someone slams into Isak from behind. He’s in the air for a beat or two before arms shoot out to grab onto him. His shoulder collides with the ground, his shin bounces off a step, and air whooshes out of his lungs when he stops rolling.

“Shit,” he hears, and when he manages to clear his head from the ringing, Isak realises it’s Even. He has _Even’s_ arms around him, and they’re lying on the ground, Even sprawled across him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Isak wheezes. Yes, Even might be slender, but he’s definitely not light.

They take a few moments to catch their breaths, and then Even’s scrambling to his feet, offering Isak a hand right after. Isak takes it, and he can feel a dozen pairs of eyes on him when Even starts asking if he’s alright.

“I’m fine,” he says, then proceeds to wince when Even’s hand accidentally nudges his shoulder.

“Shit,” Even says again. “Do you need some ice? I tried to take some of the fall, but you landed pretty hard.”

“No, it’s –” Isak pauses. “Actually, yeah. Some ice would be nice.”

“I’ll go get some,” Even says, and turns to leave. Isak reaches out and grabs his wrist.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll come with you.”

 

 

 

  
His shoulder’s throbbing, and Isak’s pretty sure there will be a bruise there the next morning. But the ice pack is doing a great job at numbing the pain, and Even’s presence next to him is an equally effective painkiller.

They’re out on the school grounds, perched on the back of a bench, and sharing a blunt. Even holds it up for Isak, and while Isak technically has a free hand, he’s not complaining. His lips brush against Even’s fingers whenever he takes a drag, and he’d be lying if he says that the touch doesn’t send shivers down his spine and around his belly.

“Sorry again,” Even says sheepishly, gesturing to the ice pack pressed against Isak’s shoulder and the one shoved underneath his jean leg against his shin. “I got distracted and missed a step. And it doesn’t help that I’m tall – my centre of gravity can be pretty shit.”

“You are quite tall,” Isak agrees absently. “I’m usually the tallest one.”

Even smiles at him, and Isak almost chokes on the smoke in his lungs.

They sit outside until the ice packs start to lose their chill, the colours of the sunset start to blend together in the sky, and the blunt is long gone. The _kosegruppa_ meeting is almost over by the time they re-enter the theatre, but Vilde doesn’t get too upset that they missed the whole thing. It probably helps that Even promises to be there the next week, and Isak can’t find it in himself to not echo the boy’s words.

“See you next week?” Even says, pausing at Isak’s locker.

“Uh, yeah,” Isak says. “See you.”

Even gives him another blinding smile, and Isak is left watching his retreating back in a daze.

 

 

 

  
The boys’ reactions when Isak tells them the following Friday that he’s going to yet another _kosegruppa_ meeting is amusing, to say the least.

“You’re what?” Magnus exclaims, hair flopping into his eyes. “Dude, are you gonna miss _another_ party?”

“Dude, I didn’t want to miss last week’s. It wasn’t my fault I got beaten up by a flight of stairs.” He hasn’t told them about Even yet – he doesn’t quite know how to go about doing it.

“I don’t believe Vilde’s _kosegruppa_ meetings are that fun,” Mahdi mutters, stealing some of Magnus’ chips.

Isak shrugs. “It’s not that bad. I mean, I’m in it for the parties, mostly. I heard from Sana that there’ll be quite a few.” He picks at his lunch, suddenly aware of Jonas’ eyes on him.

“Wait –”

Jonas is interrupted when Even walks up to their table, looking like a young Greek god with his golden hair and impossibly blue eyes. Isak freezes.

“Hey,” Even says, gaze darting around the table before landing on Isak. “How are the bruises?”

“Yellowing,” Isak croaks. Even laughs, and Isak almost melts into a puddle.

“That’s good, means they’re healing, right? You coming to the meeting today?”

Isak nods. He knows his friends are already itching to ask him questions, but he resolutely keeps his gaze on Even. “Yeah, uh, don’t want Sana to kill me in my sleep, you know?”

Even does a quirk with his eyebrows before a smile slips across his lips. Isak utters a little noise, and Jonas whips his head towards him.

“I totally get it,” Even replies. “See you there then?”

“Yeah,” Isak nods, and Even bids goodbye to the whole table with a wave.

“ _He’s_ why you’re going to the meetings,” Jonas declares once Even is out of earshot.

The sad thing is, Isak doesn’t even want to deny it.

 

 

 

 

The meeting’s over, people are filing out of the theatre, and Isak’s trying to find his snapback.

“Looking for this?”

Isak whirls around to see Even standing off to the side, his missing snapback hooked around a finger.

“Found it under there,” Even says, gesturing. Isak exhales in relief, stepping close to take it from Even’s hand.

“Thanks,” he says, slipping it on. “It’s Jonas’, and while he lets me wear it, he’ll probably throw a fit if I lost it.”

He receives another one of Even’s smiles in return, and he turns away before Even can glimpse the blush that’s surely rising up to his cheeks.

“Heading home?” Even asks as they make their way out of the school.

“Nah, I’m going to meet up with the boys at a party.”

“Ah, the one that third year’s throwing? The basketballer?”

Isak nods. They step out, and the cool night air is nice against his flushed skin.

“You know about it?”

“Indeed,” Even says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s all he ever talks about in class. Got a little annoying the past few days.”

Isak slides his gaze over to the other boy. God, his eyelashes are so long.

“Are you, uh, coming to the party then?”

Even’s eyes crinkle. “I can’t tonight. Wish I could though.”

Isak doesn’t expect his stomach to drop that much. “Okay,” he says. “Next time then.”

They part ways soon after, and Isak watches Even walk away, facing him for a few steps before waving and turning around.

 

 

 

  
Isak manages to fend off questions about Even from his friends until Vilde approaches him during lunch one day and asks if he’s able to host the first _kosegruppa_ party.

“I don’t know,” Isak hedges. “I have roommates, and uh, I don’t know if they’ll be okay with it.”

“Well, ask them,” Sana says flatly, raising an eyebrow.

Mahdi snorts around his mouthful of food.

“Right,” Isak says. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of denim. “Yeah, sure, I’ll ask. I’ll let you know.”

“Great!” Vilde exclaims, beaming. “Thanks!”

The girls leave, and Jonas leans back in his seat, a picture of nonchalance.

“So, uh, is that guy gonna be at the party?”

“What guy?” Isak asks distractedly, digging into his pocket for his phone. It's been buzzing, and it's probably Eskild asking him to pick up something on the way home later.

“The guy you've been mooning over,” Jonas says casually.

“Even?” Isak blurts, then promptly flushes.

“Aha!” Magnus cries, surging forwards to point a finger in Isak’s face. “So you _do_ have —”

Jonas reaches over and slaps his palm over Magnus’ mouth. “Dude, you're not as quiet as you think you are.” He turns back to look at Isak. “Spill.”

So Isak finds himself gushing over Even for the rest of lunch, his food lying untouched as he talks. It's nice, he thinks, to be able to talk about this with his friends. He doesn't get to do it often, always feeling too out of place whenever his friends talk about girls.

“He seems nice,” Jonas says when Isak pauses to take a breath. The four of them look across the cafeteria to where Even’s laughing with his friends.

“And he's super hot,” Magnus adds. Isak looks at him, amused. “What? I'm not blind.”

“So what are you gonna do about your painfully obvious crush?” Jonas asks.

“My painfully — what?”

Mahdi snickers. “Bro, you turn into the actual definition of a blushing schoolgirl whenever he's around.”

“No fucking way,” Isak says, blanching. “You guys are fucking with me.”

He glances over at Even. Even's looking right back at him, and Isak immediately feels the heat burning through his veins.

“See?”

Groaning, Isak plants his face into his palms.

 

 

 

  
The party isn't actually half-bad. Linn was very accommodating, and Noora and Eskild were quite excited about the prospect of hosting a party. There's a decent amount of booze, and someone managed to obtain enough weed to go around.

“Not drinking?” Isak asks, lifting the beer can in his hands.

“Afraid not,” Even smiles. He's always smiling, and Isak is a little in love with how his smiles cause his eyes to crinkle at the cornere.

“Not a fan of alcohol?”

There's a little pause, and Isak looks over at the other boy.

“Alcohol messes with my meds,” Even says eventually, glancing away. There's a dip in his tone, and Isak decides not to push.

The party’s less of a wreck than the ones Isak is used to. He knows everyone here, and there's a weird sense of comfort in knowing that his friends (probably) have enough respect for him and his roommates to not fuck up the place.

Vilde brings out a Tupperware of cookies, and the group of them chill out in the living room, nursing their drinks and chowing down on food. Even is a nice presence next to him, and Isak’s skin is buzzing with the constant brush of skin against skin.

At some point, the weed is brought out, and everyone gets enough for one blunt. Even holds one between his thumb and forefinger, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he stares down at it.

“Hey,” Isak says, nudging him lightly. “You don't have to smoke it if you can't.”

Even gives him a small smile. “I think I can, but…” He shrugs.

“We could, uh, share one?”

“Oh, like old times?” Even jokes, and Isak can't help but laugh.

 

 

 

  
It's past midnight by the time everyone's tired enough to want the party to end. They file out of the _kollektiv_ , half-drunk and half-stoned — Vilde gives Isak a big hug and a loud whisper of thanks. Once they're all gone, Isak manages to tidy up the place enough to pass Noora’s sure-to-come inspection. Even, to his delight, stays back to help.

“Shouldn't you get home? It's late.”

“I live in the building next to yours,” Even says, pouring out leftover beer. “Won't take me long to get back.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Even says. “My parents thought it would be a clean switch if we moved homes as I moved schools. They even relocated their shop.”

Isak pauses, trash bag in hand.

“Wait, your family owns the flower shop?”

Even hums. “I work there sometimes. You should drop by sometime, I may even give you a nice flower or two.”

“Okay,” Isak says. The resulting smile lights up Even’s face, and a thrill rips through Isak, still sharp despite the alcohol and weed in his system.

 

 

 

  
“Bye!” Vilde calls, Sana waving next to her. Isak returns the wave, and sighs despondently as the girls disappear into a car. It's raining cats and dogs outside, and Isak doesn't have a damn umbrella.

“Still here?” He hears, and he turns around to see Even walking up to him.

“Don't really want to walk through this,” Isak says, gesturing up at the gloomy sky.

“You don't look at weather forecasts, do you?” Even says, grinning. Isak pulls a face. “You're lucky I do,” Even continues. Reaching around to his backpack, Even pulls out an umbrella.

“I am lucky you do,” Isak echoes.

A few minutes later, Isak thinks he's in heaven. They're walking slower than usual, hindered by the rain, and Isak wants this to last forever. The umbrella is just big enough for the both of them, but only if they're pressed shoulder to hip. Which they are.

“What's it like,” Isak asks, “working at a flower shop?”

“It's not too bad,” Even replies. He lifts a hand and wiggles his fingers. “I've gotten stabbed by so many thorns though.”

“You probably get free flowers, right? Your, uh, girlfriend must be happy about that.”

“My ex wasn't very into flowers,” Even says with a shrug. “Probably why she dumped me.”

Startled, Isak looks up at Even, only to see a grin spreading across his beautiful face.

“I can't tell if you're serious,” Isak says.

“Oh, I'm not lying about her not liking flowers. But it's not why she broke up with me.”

They round a corner, and someone zooms past them on a bike, causing Isak to jump into Even's space. Even doesn't flinch, just lets Isak tread murky water all over his shoes.

“Sorry,” Isak says, wincing.

“Don't worry about it. I can wash them.”

They walk in companionable silence for a couple of blocks as Isak digests this new piece of information. His ex is a girl, and while past Isak would given up upon knowing that, current Isak knows better. He's hooked up with his fair share of “straight” guys, after all.

“What about you?”

Isak blinks. “Me?”

“Does your girlfriend like flowers?”

Isak laughs. “No, uh, no girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and my ex-boyfriend never really cared for flowers.”

A beat, then: “Pity. Flowers can make people really happy.”

Before Isak realises, they're at the flower shop. Looking up, Isak reads the name on the sign. _Romeo + Juliet._

“Nice name,” he comments.

“My favourite movie,” Even says. “Greatest love story of all time.”

Isak frowns. “Don't they die..?”

“Well, the only way you can have something for eternity is by losing it.”

“That's… Depressing,” Isak says. Even lifts a shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the shop.

“It's life, Isak. Anyway, wanna drop in for a minute or two? I'll make you a bouquet that reminds me of you.”

Well, who's Isak to decline such a lovely gesture?

 

 

 

  
The bouquet, filled with various flowers — Isak has absolutely no idea as to what their names are —, sits prettily in a vase that Eskild produces out of thin air. Eskild had, of course, teased him for a good ten minutes before finally giving it a rest.

Isak loves the bouquet, he really does, but he's fucking allergic to it. If he spends more than five minutes in the living room, he starts sneezing like a maniac. He tries to deal with it, but on Sunday night, he resigns himself to the fact that he will have to throw them out.

 _I'm so sorry_ , he types, _but I can't keep the flowers around. I'm allergic to them, idk which one, but I haven't stopped sneezing since._

Even's reply comes almost instantly.

_Oh shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic. Is it bad?_

_It's okay, I didn't know I was allergic either. It's not any of the popular flowers tho. Like, I'm not allergic to roses and carnations and stuff. And it's not too bad. I look like Rudolph, but I guess I can pull it off._

_I'll just have to give you roses next time then :) and don't worry, Rudolph is cute._

Isak's grin is interrupted by yet another sneeze, and he hurries to throw the flowers out.

 

 

 

  
Semester finals are coming up and Isak’s time is divided between studying and procrastinating. So when Even texts him during Biology on Friday and asks to hang out (Vilde had cancelled the meeting for this week), Isak instantly replies with a _yes_.

It's starting to get chilly, and Isak curses under his breath when he steps outside and feels the chill underneath his thin layers. They had decided to skip the second half of school, and Isak likes the brief exhilaration that comes with doing so.

“Cold?”

Even appears next to him, looking as warm as ever in his many layers. He lifts an eyebrow and Isak feels the corners of his lips quirk up.

“A little,” he admits. “But it's a price I have to pay in being too lazy to bring an extra layer. So where are we going?”

Fabric rustles, and Isak looks to his right just in time to see Even slip out of his jacket. Even holds it out.

“Here,” he says. “Don't want you to freeze.”

So Isak slips it on, and the warmth that envelops him is lovely. The scent of Even currently flooding his senses isn't so bad either. They head to the bus stop, slipping around the building as they keep their heads low, and manage to get there just in time to catch the next one.

“You still haven't told me where we're headed,” Isak points out, grabbing onto a pole for balance as the bus lurches forward.

“I have a photography project for my media class,” Even says, “and I was thinking of going to the botanical garden.”

“You really are a flower boy, huh?”

Even laughs, eyes twinkling, and Isak smiles right back.

 

 

 

“Each flower represents something,” Even says, pulling his camera out of his bag. “Took me a while to learn all of them, but I got there.”

The garden is quiet; there are a few people walking about, but there's enough space for Even to shoot peacefully.

“Peonies,” Even says, pointing to the blooms. “Romance and prosperity.”

That's how Isak finds himself trailing after Even, learning the names to a whole bunch of flowers and what they significance they carry.

Even's voice is deep and soothing, and Isak hangs on to every word. When they get to the proteas, he takes a picture of them, typing out a quick _reminds me of you. courage_. He sends it to his mother.

“Do you have any of these at your shop?” Isak asks, reaching over to thumb at a petal.

“I think we do,” Even says. He presses close, shoulders bumping. “Giving them to someone?”

“Yeah,” Isak exhales. “My mom. She, uh, is going through a lot. I haven't always been the best son, but I'm trying, and she's been very strong and brave through it all. I think she'll like them.”

“I'm sure she will,” Even says quietly.

He leaves Isak to gaze out at the blooms, stepping away and fiddling with his camera. And so they do their own thing for a while, occasionally glancing over to each other and exchanging small smiles whenever their eyes meet. Even takes a whole bunch of photos, and Isak, after wandering around the garden, finally figures out what flower he's allergic to.

“You’re allergic to daffodils?” Even can't help but laugh when Isak rejoins him and sneezes.

Isak glares at him balefully.

“Okay okay,” Even says, reaching around to dig into his backpack. He pulls out a small bottle of pills. “Here. I thought I'd come prepared.”

Isak looks down at the bottle of Cetirizin in his hands. If it's possible, he'd be even more in love with this guy.

“You know,” Even continues, “daffodils are the classic 10th anniversary flowers. Remember to keep some pills with you when it's your tenth anniversary.”

They spend almost an hour and a half at the garden before Even declares that he's got enough photographs for his project. Instead of bussing, they decide to walk home, and Isak’s sniffles gradually go away.

It's a twenty minute walk. A few minutes in, Isak clears his throat and drags his bottom lip through his teeth.

“My mother,” he begins, fiddling with his snapback. “She's schizophrenic. Well, at least I think she is. She refuses to get a diagnosis.”

He can feel Even's eyes on him.

“My dad left us when it got too much to handle. Left my sister and I to deal with it. I tried, you know? To help her. But I was stupid and selfish, and I didn't want to deal with any of her issues. I didn't want people like her just taking up all of my life.”

Even stays quiet, and Isak looks over. Several locks of hair are falling into his eyes, and there's a tense set to his jaw.

“But I realised,” Isak continues, “after many months of being an asshole, that if I'm not there for her, who else will be? My sister can't deal with this by herself. She's my mother. I need to love her despite whatever she puts me through. She didn't ask to go through all her psychotic episodes. She already lost my dad, she can't lose me too. She doesn't deserve to be alone.”

This time, when Isak glances to his left, Even's looking back at him.

“I've been trying,” Isak says. “I'm doing my best. I can't understand what she's going through, but at least I can be there for her while she fights it. She's finally willing to see a specialist, so hopefully, she'll get meds that will help.”

Even reaches out and squeezes his hand.

They walk the rest of the way with their fingers entwined.

 

 

 

  
Isak leans against the counter, watching as Even transforms a bunch of proteas into a beautiful bouquet. Even works with the same intensity he exudes whenever Isak is around him, and Isak can't take his eyes off him. The shop is closed for the day, and they're the only ones there.

“Here,” Even says eventually, passing the finished bouquet over to Isak. “I hope she likes it.”

“She'll love it,” Isak murmurs, staring down at the flowers in his arms. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” Even says after a beat. “Can I tell you something?”

Isak nods, fumbling with a few bills to pay for the bouquet. He hands them over, but Even declines the money with a smile.

“I'm bipolar,” Even says, and Isak stops whatever he was doing to look up at him with wide eyes. “It's a major factor as to why I left Bakka and moved here. I'm on meds and stable now, but there's always a risk that an episode will flare up.”

“Oh,” Isak utters. “Um, thank you for telling me.”

Even simply keeps his crystal blue eyes on him, fingers tightening over the roll of ribbon in his hand.

“Magnus’ mother is bipolar,” Isak says slowly. “He loves her a lot, and she seems like a great person. I, uh, don't really know what exactly a bipolar person goes through, but I have a vague idea. If you need to, you know, talk or anything, you can talk to me.”

Even breaks into one of his blinding smiles.

“Yeah, Isak, I know.”

Even walks Isak to the front door of his building.

“Thanks for coming out with me today,” he says, leaning against the wall. “I got some really great shots.”

Isak grins, a little bashful, and slips out of Even's jacket.

“Well thanks for teaching me all about flowers,” Isak replies. He hands the jacket back to its owner. “And for the warmth.”

He doesn't expect Even to reach over and slide a hand around to cup his jaw. His heart does a double take, and it completely stops when Even smiles at him.

“Anytime,” Even says. His thumb brushes so, so gently across the line of Isak’s cheekbone.

 

 

 

  
“This is killing me,” Isak cries, swiping a tear off his cheek. Around him, his friends are dying of laughter. Isak groans and takes another bite of his wrap.

He's mid-chew when a hand lands on his shoulder. Jonas waggles his ever-impressive eyebrows at him.

“Isak? Are you okay?”

Isak tilts his head back and looks up at Even. “No,” he says bitterly. “I got the wrong spice level and my taste buds are frying as we speak. I didn't bring enough to get another wrap, and my friends are assholes who enjoy watching me suffer.”

Even's eyebrows skyrocket to his hairline. Then, a laugh bubbles to the surface.

“Come on,” he says, eyes full of mirth. “I'll get you another. My treat.”

Isak leaves the table with Magnus’ wolf whistle following them.

“Hey,” Even says as they're in line. “Remember the photos I took last week? My media class is gonna have a little showcase Thursday night. I want you to be there.”

“Showcase? Yeah okay,” Isak says. “By the way, my mom really loved the flowers. Thanks again.” There's a sweaty curl plastered to his forehead and he peels it away with a grimace. Even just smiles at him.

When Isak gets back to his table, Jonas leans in and smacks him on the arm.

“Dude, so what's going on with you two?”

“What do you mean what's going on?” Isak takes a big bite of his new wrap and groans in satisfaction. “Now _this_ is a good spice level.”

“Are you guys together?”

Isak blinks at his friends. Then promptly blushes.

“No, oh my god, shut up.”

Mahdi shrugs. “I dunno man, he looks at you like you shit sunshine or something.”

Magnus points at Mahdi in agreement. Isak chokes on his food.

 

 

 

  
On the day of the media class’ showcase, Isak wakes up an extra ten minutes early just to wash and style his hair. Eskild gives him a knowing look as he heads out the door that Isak rolls his eyes at.

Classes pass uneventfully, now that the exam rush is over. So Isak doodles all over a loose page from his notebook and lets Sana take actual notes.

“What are you doing after class?” Sana asks, eyes flitting from her notebook up to the whiteboard and back down.

“Going to that showcase,” Isak says, “why?”

“You're more dressed up than usual,” Sana replies. She scribbles down a few key words. “Going for Even?”

Isak groans. “Does _everyone_ know?”

“That you're head over heels for him?” Sana snorts. “Yep. So do us all a favour and deal with that, please. Having to watch the two of you make eyes at each other during _kosegruppa_ meetings have honestly taken a toll on my sanity.”

She sets her pen down and looks over at him with a smirk. “And I have twenty bucks riding on you guys getting together by Valentine's.”

Isak shoves her and gets a lecture by their teacher for his efforts.

 

 

 

  
Even spots him the second he enters the gymnasium and waves him over.

“You came!”

“Had to see the fruit of my labour,” Isak says seriously. “My allergies take a lot out of me.”

Even laughs, then sweeps an arm around the place.

“See if you can figure out which ones I took,” he says.

Isak frowns in confusion. “They don't have your name on them?”

Even pauses. “Shit, I forgot about that.”

“I'll pretend I don't see them,” Isak promises, taking a step towards the displays, and the smile returns easily to Even's face.

It doesn’t really take long for Isak to figure out which ones are Even’s photographs – he’s in all of them. Even had taken the shots at an angle where his face isn’t visible, but Isak easily recognises himself. There’s a shot of him standing just off-centre of a flower display, one where he’s picking up a fallen flower bud, one where he’s perched on the edge of a park bench and fixing his hair. There are more, but Isak’s distracted when Even approaches.

“Found them,” Isak says softly.

“I see that you did,” Even says. “Do you like them?”

“Yeah, but… why did you put me in them?”

Even simply points across the room to a poster board propped up by the entrance. On it, printed across in an elegant typeface, Isak reads _Theme: Pulchritude._

“I don’t get it,” Isak admits. “What –”

“It means ‘beauty’, Isak.”

Isak looks up at Even, eyes wide. His breath hitches when he sees just how close their faces are.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Even says, gaze flicking down to Isak’s lips. “Inside and out.”

Isak's brain short-circuits when Even leans in closer still, not stopping until their foreheads are pressed together. Isak can still hear others milling about, talking about the photographs on display and other things. But when Even reaches up to cup his face between his palms, Isak can't hear anything else but the roar of his blood through his ears.

“You know what flowers you remind me of?” Even whispers. Isak can't take his eyes off the plumpness of Even's bottom lip. “One of them is the gloxinia; love at first sight.”

“First sight?” Isak echoes.

“Saw you the first day of school,” Even confesses. They bump noses. “I've been wanting to ask you to be my boyfriend since then.”

“Why didn't you?”

“You don't think that would've come off as weird?” Even chuckles, fingers carding through strands of Isak's hair.

“Maybe,” Isak concedes. He reaches out, tentative, and rests a hand on the dip of Even's waist. “How about now?”

“Now could work.”

Even tilts Isak's face upwards with a thumb pressed to the underside of his jaw.

“Would you say yes?”

Too impatient, Isak closes the distance between them and presses their lips together. Even deepens it instantly, Isak's lips parting willingly to let him in.

“I'd say yes,” Isak breathes, pulling away an inch or two to speak. Even smiles at him, and Isak's heart sings. He leans in to kiss him again.

At some point, Isak hears the sound of a phone camera clicking. He looks around and spots Sana standing a few feet away, phone held up and a grin on her face. "Thanks for the money."

“Send me that picture,” Even says.

All Isak can do is laugh.

 

 

 

  
There's another _kosegruppa_ party, and it's the first big gathering that Isak and Even will be attending as boyfriends. Predictably, Sana had sent the picture to her group chat with the girls almost immediately, and once Vilde had gotten wind of it, all of their mutual friends now know as well. Isak managed to tell Jonas and the other two before they heard it from someone else, and Magnus’ shriek of delight nearly busted Isak’s eardrum.

His friends are out in the living room, and Isak finds himself in the kitchen, preparing a haphazard collection of snacks. Eskild drifts in, coos about his little baby Isak, and when Isak sighs and rolls his eyes, Eskild floats back out to mingle with the rest with a chortle.

“Hey baby,” Isak hears. A smile blooms on his face at Even's voice. “You're making quite a mess on these counters.”

“Lies,” Isak says. “There are like, three crumbs.”

Even presses close, a hand by either side of Isak’s frame, keeping them up against the counter. He winks — Isak thinks it's fucking cute that he can't wink properly — and reaches over to turn the radio on.

“I'll help you,” Even offers. He drops a kiss on the tip of Isak's nose and peels away.

They work for about a minute or so before a pop song starts playing. Even stops moving, an open bag of chips in his hands, and looks over at Isak with excitement in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he says, “you gotta sing with me.”

Isak crooks an eyebrow. “... You listen to Gabrielle? Seriously?”

“Yeah! What, you don't like her? Come on, everyone loves her. This song is a jam!”

He grabs onto Isak's hands, waves them around in a sad imitation of dance, and Isak huffs out a laugh.

“Ugh,” he groans in mock disappointment. “Just when you think you've found the man of your life, he happens to be a Gabrielle fan.”

Even lifts an eyebrow, leans in with a cheeky grin and a gaze full of love. “What's that? Man of your what?”

Isak shrugs, wraps arms around Even's middle and kisses him on the cheek.

“My life, Even. My dreams. You're everything.”

Eva finds them there five minutes later, languidly making out against the kitchen counter, snacks still half prepared and Gabrielle no longer playing on the radio.

 

 

 

  
“You guys are cute,” Magnus says forlornly.

Even's sitting with them for lunch, and Isak’s busy making sure he's eating enough so he can take his meds.

“You sound sad about that,” Even notes, allowing Isak to feed him a mouthful of food.

“I want to be cute with someone,” Magnus sighs.

“Good luck,” Isak says. “Tough to do with your face.”

Jonas snorts so hard soda shoots up his nose.

“Don't you like Vilde?” Even asks, genuinely curious.

Magnus turns as red as a stop light. “What? How did you —”

“You look at her like I look at Isak,” Even says with a grin. “And you've been going to all the _kosegruppa_ gatherings since that Christmas party one of my classmates hosted. Where, you know, you hooked up with her.”

“Damn,” Mahdi says. “Isak, how do you always get the good ones? All the hot girls went for you even after you came out, and now you land someone like Even?”

Even laughs, and Isak preens when he gets a kiss to his temple.

“Nah, I'm the lucky one,” Even says. He squeezes Isak’s hand, and Isak squeezes right back.

 

 

 

  
It's snowing lightly, and Isak’s managed to convince Mahdi to take notes for him so he can skip last period math to walk through the streets of Oslo with Even. Isak, of course, hasn't brought along gloves, and he's got his left hand shoved into Even's coat pocket, Even's warm fingers wrapped around his own.

They're sharing a nice warm cup of hot chocolate between them, and the sky overhead is a nice, bright blue. Next to him, Even's talking (won't shut up, really) about one of Baz Luhrmann’s old films that are scheduled to have a limited screening over the next couple of weeks, and Isak is enthralled by how his breath fogs up and how his lips are just slightly chapped.

Then Even stops talking abruptly and turns to look at Isak.

“Thank you,” he says. Isak thinks his eyes are even bluer than the sky. “For being with me.”

Isak tilts his head.

“You're patient with me,” Even goes on. “You care, but you're not overbearing like some other people in my life. You don't put my illness above who I am. You're willing to tackle whatever issues that come our way. You just want me to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Yeah, I do.”

“I know. So I think you deserve to know that I think a manic episode is coming on. You know that my doctor has lowered my lithium dosage a few weeks ago, and I'll go see her soon to tell her it's not working, but just in case I don't do that soon enough, okay?”

Isak's grip on the half-finished cup of hot chocolate tightens.

“Okay,” he says after he takes a breath. “I know what the textbook symptoms are, so I'll keep an eye out for them and do my best to keep you safe. I've been asking Magnus for advice on how to manage such episodes, but if I don't do very well —”

“You'll be perfect,” Even interrupts. He gives Isak a small, genuine smile.

“You're not going to be alone, Even.” Isak steps closer, and Even welcomes him into his space. Isak pulls his hand out of Even's grasp and thumbs at his cheek. “You'll never be alone, okay?”

Even pulls him in for a hug, and they stay in each other’s arms for a long time, small flakes of snow falling all around them as they stand in the middle of a street in the heart of Oslo.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write for these two lovely boys for the longest time, and I've finally done it!  
> I have another idea lined up for them; I'm really looking forward to that :D
> 
> [Click for Links!](https://bluedveins.wixsite.com/evoxine)


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